


The Dearly Departed Candidate Affair

by YumYumPM



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 11:29:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1686719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YumYumPM/pseuds/YumYumPM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Political Farce</p>
<p>A congressional candidates is found murdered.  You might wonder what that have to do with U.N.C.L.E.?  Waverly suspects Thrush and assigns his two top agents to go in undercover.  Everyone knows political candidates are investigated by the press and Napoleon, along with his new aide-de-camp come in for their share...so they enlist April Dancer to help out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dearly Departed Candidate Affair

Alexander Waverly threw the newspaper down on the round table in his office and watched as it was swept around to the two men sitting opposite him.

The dark-haired man picked it up and studied the story that was circled in red while the blond put on his glasses to read over his partner’s shoulder.

 

Congressional Candidate Found Murdered was the story headline.

Mr. Waverly got out his pipe and was packing it with tobacco from his humidor when Napoleon Solo looked up and asked, “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t see what this could have to do with us?” Us being the United Network for Law and Enforcement.

Illya Kuryakin took the paper from his partner and began closely studying the story. When he finished he set the paper down and removed his glasses putting them away. “I’m afraid I must agree with Napoleon,” he said somewhat apologetically. 

Mr. Waverly nodded; he’d expected as much from his two top agents. They were as alike as night and day, yet they complimented each other perfectly. There were none better. “Perhaps you would change your minds if I told you that Zephrim Zukos was involved.”

That brought about a change; Waverly was amused to note that there was a slight intake of breath from Kuryakin while Solo bit his bottom lip before uttering, “THRUSH.”

Waverly nodded yet again.

His agents looked at him puzzled. “Do we know why?” The Russian wanted to know.

“No. It will be your job to find out. Mr. Solo, you will be posing as a new congressional candidate seeking election.”

Solo looked up in surprise, but his mind was already going over all the things he would require to carry out this assignment.

“Mr. Kuryakin, you will be his aide-de-camp.”

“Aide-de-what?”

“His personal adviser, Mr. Kuryakin.”

“Mr. Waverly, I know virtually nothing about American politics,” Kuryakin protested his accent becoming slightly thicker.

“Mr. Solo will be able to bring you up to speed on that point I’m sure,” Mr. Waverly assured him as Lisa Rogers entered the office with a folder that she set down in front of Solo.

He picked it up and studied the contents before looking at his superior with questioning eyes.

Waverly finished lighting his pipe before saying. “Your cover story. You are now Robert Vaughn, congressional candidate for the 13th district.” And with a wave of his pipe he dismissed them both.

On the way out the door, Illya took the folder from his partner. “It would have to be the 13th district,” he said gloomily.

“Why, Illya, I didn’t know you were superstitious,” Napoleon teased with a smile.

The glare he received was priceless.

________________________________

Twenty-four hours later they were ensconced in a collection of rooms formerly occupied by the recently deceased candidate. U.N.C.L.E. had even managed to retain the same staff of the former candidate.

Napoleon had requisitioned and received all detailed information that the former candidate had had at his disposal. A press release had been issued with his purported background, personal and otherwise, his qualifications, and a list of the people helping his campaign. There was also to be a press conference in two hours at a local hotel announcing his entrance in the race to be held.

The two agents had arrived to find camera men setting up their cameras and reporters taking their seats in front of the podium. Illya stood on the sidelines taking in all the pandemonium as Napoleon walked toward the podium. When he got there, Napoleon adjusted the microphone and smiled. In spite of the blinding lights he looked confident and well dressed as he introduced himself and explained why they were all there.

Then the questions began. He fielded several questions from female reporters with ease.

“Are you married?”

“No. I’m afraid I haven’t met the right woman yet,” he said with a shy smile.

“What are your views on...”

The questions went on and on with Napoleon giving concise and insightful answers. Illya was impressed with Napoleon’s knowledge in spite of himself.

Finally a heavyset man with thinning hair stood up. Taking a lit cigar from his mouth he asked. “My question is who’s the little commie you have working for you?”

Napoleon stiffened slightly before lightly answering, “Mr. Kuryakin is my adviser as well as a close personal friend.”

The fat slob nodded, writing it down. “Close personal friend,” he muttered. “Does that mean you guys are lovers?” he asked as he looked back up.

There was silence in the room, as Napoleon searched his mind for an answer to the surprising question. He and Illya lovers? Preposterous. He could imagine the stunned look on his partner’s face must match his own. Though neither agent so much as looked at the other, murmurings were heard throughout the audience.

Napoleon’s eyes narrowed as he thought fast. “My sister will be greatly disappointed to hear that since she’s married to him,” he lied smoothly.

“Family,” the man muttered as he wrote that down and reclaimed his seat.

Napoleon took a couple more questions before ending the interview and hurried off the stage.   
“Napoleon?” Illya called as he hurried after him.

“Not now,” Napoleon said as he held up his hand. He drew into a small recess and pulled out his communicator. “Open Channel D.” 

Illya stood there, blocking anyone’s view of his partner talking into his pen.

“Channel D open.”

“Get April Dancer down here ASAP. Oh, and have her bring a wedding band,” Napoleon requested. 

“Will do, Mr. Solo. Channel D out.”

Napoleon closed the pen but refused to respond to his partner's questioning look. 

Returning to Vaughn Campaign Headquarters Napoleon grabbed his partner guiding him into his small office.

“What are you planning, Napoleon? And what was that all about?” Inquired an indignant Russian. “Why would anyone think that we...?” He stopped in mid sentence as Emily, a small brunette and head staff member, entered the office to leave some papers on the desk.

Napoleon sat down at the desk leaned back in his chair looking totally relaxed. “Illya, Illya, you really must learn to read all the briefing notes.”

Illya glared; usually Napoleon was the one who was lax about that.

Pulling a folder with a photo attached from the pile, Napoleon read, “Arthur Dunn, age 53, currently freelancing for one of New York’s many and varied smut rags.”

“Smut rag? What’s a smut rag?” A puzzled Illya wanted to know.

“Smut rag, gossip tabloid, they’re all the same,” Napoleon said as he closed the folder. “They dig up dirt and if they don’t find any they make it up.”

“Ah,” Illya said with understanding

“Ah, indeed,” Napoleon repeated as he leaned further back in his chair, his hands behind his head.

________________________________

 

April Dancer, slightly out of breath, opened the door to Solo’s office and hurried in to find Napoleon leaning back in his chair with his feet on the desk. Illya sat on the edge of the desk, glasses in place, reading the contents of a folder that he held. “Okay, boss, can anyone tell me why I’m here?” she asked brightly

Napoleon looked at her and waved his hand toward Illya. “April Vaughn meet Illya Kuryakin - your husband.” Illya waved. “Have you got the ring?” 

April looked dumbstruck as she held out the ring to Napoleon. “May I ask why?”

Emily, the former candidate’s right hand person, came in and handed a sheet of paper to Napoleon. Napoleon read it and passed it on to Illya who glanced over it before handing it to April. April’s eyes grew wide as she read it.

“Is any of this true?” she asked.

“Of course not,” Napoleon replied indignantly. “But to be on the safe side you and Illya are now husband and wife. Think you can do it?”

She gave Illya the once over before going to stand in front of him. “Put your arms around me,” she commanded.

Illya awkwardly took her in his arms.

April turned in his arms and looked at Napoleon. “It will take a little work but I think we can pull it off. Just how long have we been married?”

“Umm, how does five years sound? Long enough for the honeymoon to be over?” Napoleon suggested.

“Sounds good to me. Illya?” April asked as she went over to the mirror on the wall and adjusted her bangs.

Illya got off the desk went up to April turning her around and bent her with a flourish giving her a deep and soulful kiss. Napoleon, one eyebrow raised pursed his lips as he looked on and contemplated a later re-evaluation of using Illya on seduction assignments. When the kiss was over April, her eyes glazed, was so weak-kneed that she had to sit down. 

Illya, a smug smile in place, turned to look at Napoleon before reclaiming his seat on the desk.

Napoleon’s communicator went off at that moment and he dropped his feet off the desk as he answered it. “Solo here.”

“Mr. Solo, Mr. Waverly would like to see both you and Mr. Kuryakin in his office right away.”

The two agents exchanged looks. “Wanda, do you know why?’

“Sorry, Napoleon, I have no idea. Channel D out.”

Napoleon pocketed his communicator and got up. “April, we’ll need you to help convince the press that that article is a figment of the writer’s imagination.”

“How do I do that?” April wanted to know.

“I have it on good authority that if we leave by the back door we’ll be besieged by the press,” Napoleon stated.  
________________________________

Napoleon was correct. As the three agents left campaign headquarters by the back door they were besieged by several television station reporters wanting interviews. Looking them over he, of course, picked the most gorgeous reporter to give an interview to.

“Mr. Vaughn.” Monica Theil started the interview.

“Robert please,” Napoleon said using his considerable charm 

She nodded. “Robert, what is your opinion of the article that just came out. True or False.”

“Well, Monica, may I call you Monica?” he asked and as she nodded he continued, “You have to take what some tabloids say with a grain of salt. As I was just telling my sister...”

“Your sister?” Monica interrupted

Napoleon pulled April forward. “Yes, may I introduce my sister April Kuryakin.”

“Ah, may I say you two don’t look very much alike?” Monica stated.

“Different mothers,” Napoleon said and at the same time April said, “Different fathers.”

“Which is it?” Monica wanted to know.

Illya moved up to clarify. “Her mother was married to his father.”

“And you are?”

“This is my brother-in-law Illya Kuryakin,” Napoleon supplied.

“Oh, yes.” Monica gave Illya a suggestive look while April simmered. “Are there any children?”

“Unfortunately, my brother-in-law is sterile,” Napoleon said apologetically as he started toward a waiting car.

Illya turned to glare at Napoleon before getting behind the wheel of the car, while April looked away and bit her lip to keep from laughing.

“I’m afraid that’s all the questions I have time for,” Napoleon said as he helped April into the car before following her. 

Illya, behind the wheel, looked back at Napoleon in the rearview mirror. “Why did you have to say that?”

Napoleon just shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. April, luv, we’ll need you back tomorrow at the televised debate to support your dear brother.”

“No problem,” April agreed.

“No mini-skirts, I have my image to protect,” Napoleon stated.

April sighed as she let a pout grace her lips.

________________________________

The two agents entered and paused before going to sit down in their usual places in their superior’s office. Alexander Waverly stood by the window smoking his pipe. Turning toward them, he pointed to the newspaper that was currently lying in front of them. “May I ask how much of that is true?”

Illya looked at the paper before passing it to his partner with a sigh. Napoleon glanced at it momentarily before tossing it back on the table, his expression noncommittal.

“There is absolutely no truth to any of this - nor to the statement that I’m sterile,” Illya said pointedly as he glared at Napoleon.

“Are you sure?” Mr. Waverly asked, somewhat let down then frowned. “I don’t remember anything in that article about your being sterile, Mr. Kuryakin.”

“Ignore him,” Napoleon suggested. “Sir, you sound disappointed.”

“As you both may be aware, the women’s rights movement has forced us to have more women assigned to the enforcement section. The same thing can be said for the gay rights movement.” Mr. Waverly said.

Napoleon looked surprised. “You mean ..?”

“Exactly, if we don’t hire any people of ...you know - they have threatened to bring legal action against us.”

“Can they do that?” Illya wanted to know.

“Whether they can or not is beside the point, Mr. Kuryakin,” Mr. Waverly replied with a sigh. “U.N.C.L.E. does not need that type of publicity. If the two of you were…”

“Well, in that case I have no objections if Illya doesn’t.” Napoleon shrugged and looked at Illya.

The blond Russian scowled as he crossed his arms. “No, absolutely not. I refuse.”

“Come on, Illya, its no big deal,” Napoleon pressed as he picked up a pencil and tapped it on the table.

Illya shook his shaggy head no. “Besides, no one who knows us would believe it.”

“Illya, I hate to break this to you, but…” Napoleon started to say with a smile as he leaned closer to his partner.

“There would be a considerable increase in salary.” Mr. Waverly broke in to offer.

Illya momentarily taken aback considered that. “How much of an increase?”

“He’ll do it,” Napoleon confirmed.

Mr. Waverly rubbed his hands together. “Good. I’ll be right back with the paperwork.”

“Napoleon, why would anyone think...?” Illya asked suspiciously as Mr. Waverly left the room.  
Napoleon looked entirely too innocent. “Napoleon?” he said in a shocked voice. “Why would you...?”

Napoleon looked guilty. “I thought if people thought...well what with the cost of dating…”

Illya grinned. “So my frugal ways have finally rubbed off on you. Did it work?”

The pencil in Napoleon’s hands snapped in two. “No,” he said shortly.

Illya just shook his head as Mr. Waverly re-entered the room with papers for them to sign confirming their new change in status.

The two men got up to leave when Mr. Waverly said, “Mr. Solo, there are still some things we need to discuss.”

Napoleon sat back down and turned to watch Illya heading toward the door. “Illya, could you meet me at my place tonight? We need to go over details for the televised debate tomorrow.”

Illya nodded. “Sure, sweetheart. Is seven o’clock okay?” he teased.

“That’s fine, Snookums.” Napoleon smirked before turning back to his boss.

________________________________

The television station was a madhouse. Napoleon was off to one side going over his notes while having his makeup checked. Illya was off in a corner sitting on a table, with April leaning against him, her body sandwiched between his legs.

Soon the debate started. Napoleon smiled his most charming smile, looking poised and confident as he fielded with ease any question flung at him. The opposing candidate did not.

April watched in astonishment enjoying the feeling of leaning against Illya’s strong body, “He’s really very good at that.”

Illya, ignoring the fact that April was altogether too comfortable, kept his eyes scanning in every direction. “Why are you so surprised? Napoleon has all the makings of an excellent politician. He can lie, cheat, and sleep around with the best of them.” He smirked.

April looked at him from out of the corner of her eyes. “Are you speaking from personal experience?” she teased, having heard the rumor of their change in status.

Illya pinched her. Suddenly he sat up straight. “April,” he said, nodding toward the far right of the stage.

April looked where he indicated and saw a man poised there holding a rifle. They watched in shock as the shot rang out and Candidate Vaughn fell to the floor.

“I’ll take care of Napoleon,” April assured him as Illya hesitated fractionally before going after the shooter.

Taking to the catwalk above the stage he soon caught up with the shooter and, jumping down from a great height, landed on top of him before using a right cross to knock him completely out. Out of breath, he looked over to where Napoleon lay lifeless in April’s arms.

________________________________

Mr. Waverly tossed the paper on the table with a pleased expression before sending it around to his three agents seated there. “An excellent outcome if I do say so myself.”

 

Illya picked up the paper and read. “Leading Congressional Candidate Robert Vaughn Killed At Televised Debate.”

April took the paper from him. “According to this, Napoleon could still win by a landslide even dead.”

Napoleon didn’t bother to look at the paper. He rubbed his sore chest as he complained. “Don’t ever let them tell you those bullet proof vests don’t hurt.”

“Gentlemen and lady,” Mr. Waverly said nodding to them. “This calls for a celebration, take the weekend off. You can finish your written reports on Monday.”

“Thank you, sir,” Napoleon said sardonically. He picked up a folder that held the notes on their report before leaving the room.

The three agents left the office intent on going their separate ways. April headed toward her office as Napoleon and Illya headed for the elevator. She turned to observe as they got in the elevator, and was surprised when Illya winked at her and said as he reached to punch the button to close the elevator door. “Try to remember, Napoleon, that I do not bottom.”

The shocked expression on Napoleon’s face as the papers in the folder he was holding hit the floor would remain with April for a long time to come.

The End


End file.
